


Ménage à Braj

by junkster



Category: Workaholics (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Blake's a sweetheart, Drug Use, Friends With Benefits, Lovey-Dovey, M/M, Multi, Power Outage, Threesome - M/M/M, i love these idiots, improbably good sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkster/pseuds/junkster
Summary: With a contagious virus sweeping the world and all TelAmeriCorp staff on furlough, the guys are trapped in lockdown and spending more time together than ever before. It's normal to dream about your bro's, right? Totally normal?
Relationships: Adam DeMamp/Blake Henderson/Anders Holmvik, Blake Henderson/Karl Hevacheck
Kudos: 16





	Ménage à Braj

  
  


"I can't believe it's two days to my birthday and we're still stuck here, guys," Blake says with a sigh, reaching across to pass a fresh beer to Adam. "I'm gonna turn twenty-five without our traditional Chili's birthday-blowout. It sucks!"

"Those sweet, sweet baaaby back ribs," Adam laments in sing-song.

"I mean, at least you have us though, right?" Anders offers. "You could be like Jillian, alone for months on end."

"When she Skype'd yesterday she had those crazy eyes," Adam agrees with a shudder. "And one of her cats had an eye-patch, did you _see_ that?"

"See it? I'm trying to get it trending on _tumblr_ right now."

Blake stretches his legs out and smiles. "You know what? You guys're right. We have booze, we've got weed thanks to Karl's night-time sneak-drop-offs, and we've got each other."

"Right, and if things were normal you'd be spending most of your birthday in the office, anyway," Anders points out. "Life's pretty good right now, dude. I know lockdown seemed pretty terrible to begin with, but we've adapted. We're adaptable people."

Adam leans back in his chair, tucking his hands behind his head. "We maybe went a little insane in those first few weeks, a little stir crazy, especially that night you guys had to barricade me into my room because I kept trying to steal the keys to the 'Vo, but I don't deal well under pressure, okay? I just don't! We all know that about me! I just wanted some Reese's Puffs so fuckin' badly and it's nowhere to be found! There's a Puff Shortage! And people are worried about what they're gonna wipe their buttholes on!?"

Anders gives him a consolatory pat on the shoulder. "Yeah. We know. We know you're an addict and we accept you just the way you are." He tosses his empty into the cooler. "Time for me to head in, guys. I've got a date with Collateral tonight."

"'Night Ders. Go enjoy some sweet Foxx action. And don't worry, Adam. I'll ask Karl if he can source some for my birthday," Blake promises, tipping his head back to look up at the stars with a smile. "And maybe some 'shrooms..."

"Oh, at _least_ some 'shrooms." Adam agrees, craning his neck to check that the cooler's empty, then shrugging. "We should get an early night too, maybe, just this once, since we haven't been to bed before two in the morning for the last god know's how many weeks, 'cause we're such party animals."

"Look what responsible adults we are!"

"Lead the way, my man. Actually I'm gonna grab hold of your elbow 'til we get down if that's okay, I'm a _little_ wobbly right now..."

"Those were some pretty good beers, man," Blake agrees as he takes Adam's hand and helps him up. "Lockdown's improving the quality of our booze, apparently."

"I'm hoping it's gonna put me to sleep like a baby. Some days I just need my beauty sleep, y'know? This face doesn't get this way all by itself. It actually looks pretty terrible, most of the time..."

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


“God, I hate you,” Adam says with a total lack of venom, shaking his head as he drops his hotdog into the trash. He licks ketchup off his thumb and squints against the bright sunshine. “And myself, actually. Honestly - am I your fat friend? D’you just bring me here to make you look even leaner, dude?” 

Blake smiles, board shorts riding low. “Of course not, Adam. You’re the handsomest guy here, you know that. Everyone knows that.”

Adam looks around at the crowded beach and then back, blinking in surprise because, he’s pretty sure Blake was wearing a t-shirt just a second ago, but...

“You’re just flaunting it now!” he proclaims, squinting as Blake’s silhouette comes closer and then suddenly blocks the sun, a hand reaching up to tuck his hair back behind his ear. Adam follows the movement of that hand up and then back down until he’s just staring unabashedly at Blake’s hips.

“Dude, you know I’m jealous that you’ve got those Usher muscles going on down there…”

He doesn’t feel any movement but somehow, suddenly, he’s on his knees in the sand, and Blake’s hipbone is right there in front of him, and he looks up to see Blake haloed by the sun with this gentle, benevolent smile. 

Adam stares, feels his face settle into something like wonder. "You’re fucking...super-hot,” he realises quietly, and then Blake’s fingers wind into his hair and Adam leans in, opening his mouth to taste hot, sea-salty skin and…

...and he wakes, frozen to his mattress, blinking up at the white ceiling of his bedroom and trying not to let out the stream of curse words that’s coursing through his brain, panic almost choking him in the early-morning silence that’s just cut through by a familiar beep, beep, beep from next door.

He settles for a soft whimper.

  


\-------

  


“Dude, why aren’t you dressed for work?” Anders asks, leaning back against the fridge after closing it despondently - Montez’s cream cheese is gone already and all that's left is something of Bill's, unlabelled and suspiciously viscous. “Alice is gonna kill you! After she kills me first for not getting her this bagel, anyway. God, I hate it when Jillian's not here.”

Adam shrugs a shoulder, smiling just a little. He’s standing in the middle of the office kitchen in sweatpants and an old, worn t-shirt, feet bare against the lino floor. He’s weirdly still and calm, none of the frenetic energy he usually has after his early morning red bulls.

“What’re you...” Anders begins, then trails off, cocking his head, watching as Adam advances on him slowly. “Oh wait, did Blake throw up on you again? I told him not to eat that ancient fish taco last night.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ders,” Adam says quietly, stepping right into Anders’ space. "Don't worry about anything today, okay? You're a good employee. You're our best friend. You're a _good person_."

Anders feels this weird rush of warmth from the proximity of Adam’s body, surprise making him breathe in sharply, the entire world fading out except for the dark, hungry eyes gazing up at him. “Adam, what’re you -?” 

His words are cut off by Adam _kissing him_ , pushing him up against the refrigerator door with enough force to make the contents rattle, with warm lips and a mouth as sweet as a handful of skittles, his hands coming up to hold either side of Anders’ jaw with a tenderness that makes the bottom fall out of his stomach. He feels himself give in to it, feels the warm cotton of Adam's t-shirt against his fingers, and then...

...and then he wakes with a thud, his legs tangled in the bedsheets and his head and shoulders on his bedroom floor, fingers digging into the carpet, heart fast and throbbing in his ears. He lies there, distantly noting with confusion the beep, beep, beep of Blake’s alarm going off next door.

He groans, staring in dazed dismay at the dust bunnies under his bed.

“Shit,” he whispers. "Shit, shit, _shit_."

  


\-------

  


“I got this!” Blake splutters as he turns and makes his way back to the shallow end, the sun warm on his back. “Ders I’m swimming!”

“I know man, you’ve totally got this!” Anders calls, treading water as Blake makes it from one end of their pool to the other, and he sounds so fucking proud that Blake’s chest feels like it’s stretching and bursting open, because he can do this, he can do this, he can…

...he gasps, a sudden spasm of cramp bites into his leg.

He can't do this, he _can't_ do this, he -

He's fucking sinking, his chest bursting for real now, not with pride but with the need for oxygen, and their backyard pool is suddenly a full-sized, olympic swimming pool and oh god, he’s going under, he’s going under, he’s _sinking_ , he’s…

...dragging air back into his lungs as water cascades off his body, strong arms laying him gently on cool tiles and Anders is above him, hair somehow dry and mussed like it was before they even got in the pool, eyes calm and determined. 

Blake reaches up weakly to curl his fingers around Anders' elbow. “Dude, you saved me...”

“You had it, Blazer. You were doing so good,” Anders encourages quietly. 

“I was so good,” Blake echoes dazedly, eyes wandering down to where one of Anders’ big hands is splayed flat and low across his belly, hot and heavy against his bare skin. “I…” He looks back up along the lines of muscle in Anders’ arm and along his collar bone, up to his face. “I…”

Anders tilts his head just slightly and light hits his eyes, and as his hand slides down underneath the waistband of Blake’s shorts, Blake drowns in deep blue-green...

...and he wakes, sitting bolt upright in bed, chest heaving for breaths as he stares wide-eyed at his alarm clock as it chastises him for sleeping past eleven, their agreed lock-down wake-up time. Heart hammering, he puts his head in his hands and then decides to just put his arms right over his head instead, burying himself in darkness and trying to ignore the unbelievable morning wood he has under the covers.

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


“Dude, that better not be burning poptarts I can smell!” Adam yells, racing into the kitchen and slapping Anders’ hand away from the toaster. “Is nothing sacred to you, Ders? God! I asked you to watch them for _one_ minute!”

“I’m making pancakes, here!” Anders retorts, waving him away. “I haven’t got time to focus on your poptarts, Adam! God, now the whole kitchen smells like burnt strawberries. And I didn't even know you could burn strawberries!”

“You’re making pancakes?” Adam asks, stopping in his tracks and eyeing up the stove. “Did I just leap a minute ago? Am I Scott Bakula right now? Since when do you make breakfast?”

Anders moves to open the fridge and there’s a brief, brief moment as his hand touches the door where his stomach does a weird flip-flop and then he’s over it, grabbing the milk and elbowing the door shut. “It’s Blake’s birthday tomorrow, man. It’s tradition, you know that. Can you find me a tray?”

Adam eyes the cupboards with a put-upon sigh. "Do we even have trays, Ders?" he asks, hefting himself up to sit on the countertop by the fridge and immediately forgetting all about it as he watches in wonder as Anders flips the pancakes.

  


\-------

  


Blake's still sitting up in bed when the knock sounds at his door, his heart leaping as he answers croakily, “Come in.”

It’s Anders, of course it is, holding a tray of pancakes and syrup and butter in one hand and a can of red bull in the other like some kind of vision of what Blake’s pretty sure is waiting at the gates of heaven. He’s already dressed in jeans and a hoodie, hair wet from the shower, the newer, relaxed version of Ders that's slowly replacing the stiff, shirt-and-tie Ders of old. Lockdown Ders. Anders 2.0.

“Happy Almost Birthday!” he cheers, setting the can down on the bedside table and the tray over Blake’s lap. “You’re nearly twenty-five, dude, can you believe it?”

“Wow...thank you, Ders, for this traditional ‘Almost Birthday’ breakfast. You’re a lot better at making it than I am, I gotta say…” Blake says, guiltily remembering the measly bowl of grapefruit and oatmeal he'd deposited in front of Anders a few months before, alongside a consolation bowl of fruit loops. He sits up a little straighter against the headboard.

“I used to make pancakes for myself all the time when I was a kid,” Anders says, perching on the edge of the bed near Blake’s feet. “When I got sick of straight-up granola. You know how it is.”

Blake frowns as he adjusts the tray. “Your mom didn't make them for you?” 

“I asked once when I was six or seven and she just handed me a recipe book and told me to get on with it. She was, y'know. A busy person.” 

Blake searches Anders' face as he thinks of his own mom for a moment, memories of waffles and pancakes and blueberries and sunshine, a warm kitchen and arms around him, and he looks down at the tray on his lap and has to swallow against a sudden lump in his throat. God. He's twenty- _six_.

Anders shrugs as he looks towards the window, that subtle dropping of the shutters he always does when he thinks he’s revealed a little too much. Blake _hates_ that look.

He reaches out to grab Anders' wrist as he stands to leave and blurts: “You wanna share?” 

Anders smiles at him, warm enough to thaw some of the guilt Blake feels for bringing up the past. “Oh I ate the crazy-looking first couple and the tiny last one, y’know? I'm good. Oh, and Adam wanted me to let you know he got you the red bull out of the fridge. It's _super_ important that you know that, apparently.” He rolls his eyes and as he stands there the early morning sunshine slants across his face through the window and lights up the green of his eyes, and Blake is transported back into his dream, breathless all over again when he realises he's got Anders' wrist enveloped tightly in his fingers, pulse against his palm. He lets go like he's been burned.

“Adam's having one of his all-body exfoliation and moisturising sessions in the bathroom, so, you won't be getting in there any time soon. Take your time,” Anders advises, apparently not noticing the moment, and then he’s gone, and Blake stares at his bedroom door and wonders when, exactly, he lost his fucking mind.

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


Adam's still in the shower when Blake emerges, so he looks in the mirror, gives his face a quick scrub with his hands, ruffles his hair and pulls on the pants he'd thrown over the end of the bed the night before. A quick look at the pile of clothes in the corner reminds him of the extremely pressing need to do laundry, so he heads across the corridor into Anders' room and grabs one of the t-shirts folded neatly over the back of the chair by his bed. It's a little too big but well-worn and soft against his skin, and he has to put a steadying hand on the bedside table when he realises it smells faintly of Anders' orangey-scented shower gel, like maybe he's worn it briefly after a shower and, _god_ , why does that make him feel so comforted? He's losing his mind. 

He's losing his _mind_.

He heads to the kitchen where Anders is...well, doing nothing, actually. Standing over the sink, hands on the counter, he's staring out of the window at the pool. Blake clears his throat and he jumps a mile, his expression about as shifty as Blake's ever seen it.

"Sorry dude," Blake says contritely. "Are you alright? You look a little...rattled."

Anders frowns, his back to the sink now, arms folded. "Honestly? I am."

"Are we out of real milk again? I told Adam not to get goat's milk again but you know, he's impulsive..."

“Dude...can I be honest with you? Like, so honest you might have to awkwardly one-armed bro-hug me?”

Blake cocks his head with uncertainty. He's terrified of these kind of conversations, always sure either Anders or Adam will decide to leave one day, or get a new job somewhere else, or actually get a girlfriend that steals them away, or - “Um, sure. Of course. You're not moving out, are you?” 

"What? No!" Anders looks at him in confusion. "No, I just...I had this dream."

"Oh," Blake says, relief coursing through him and then: "Oh?" as the oddness of it dawns on him. "You did?"

"It really messed with me...I can't shake it, man."

Blake leans against the counter near the fridge and takes a deep breath. "I had a dream too. Also unshakeable."

“You did?” 

“Yeah."

Anders lowers his voice. "Like a sex dream?"

A shivery sensation shimmers weirdly down Blake's spine. "It was going that way, for sure."

Anders hesitates, fingers drumming on the countertop. "I probably shouldn't...I don't know why I'm even _telling_ you this."

"So let's say it together. On three, we say 'I dreamed about...'. Okay?"

"Okay. Sure. But if either of us says something that shocks the other, we keep it between us, right?"

"Absolutely."

Anders takes a breath. "Okay. One, two, three..."

"I dreamed about you," Blake blurts, just as his ears pick up Anders' hastily tripped over: 'I dreamed about _Adam_ '.

There's silence for a long, long moment. Blake has to work to get his brain past the images that flood his head of Anders and Adam, _together_. "You dreamed about Adam? Really?"

"Yeah," Anders says despondently. It seems to take him a moment to catch up, and then his eyes are on Blake and Blake feels like a moth at the museum, pinned to a board. "You dreamed about me?"

"How can we both have had a sex dream about a dude on the same night?" Blake asks, dodging the question. "My god. This is too weird, Ders. For it to happen to both of us at the same time? It can't be a coincidence, man!"

"Of course it's a coincidence, Blake, they're just dreams," Anders throws back, but there's uncertainty there as he shakes his head, expression troubled. There's a pause before he asks, more than a little sheepishly, "So what happened? In yours."

Blake considers clamming up; considers darting out the door, but, much as he hates them, he's never been one for shying away from a difficult conversation. He shrugs his shoulders in resignation. “You were teaching me to swim, and I was doing it, man! I was really doing it. And then I guess I got in trouble and you saved my life like some big hero and then, and I don’t know why, you gave me an under-the-pants-handy, and I woke up with just about the hardest boner I’ve had in...forever.”

"Oh shit, when I came in with the pancakes?"

"What? Oh, no, I'd willed it away by then with the overwhelming panic and anxiety."

“Okay. Okay.” Anders leans back heavily against the counter, putting a little distance between them as he mulls over Blake’s words. “Well...I mean, it’s normal, right? To dream about your best friends when you’ve lived with them for years? It doesn’t _mean_ anything.”

“It's never happened to me before, man,” Blake admits. “I mean, I’ve dreamed about us going to work at Seaworld, and once where Adam was a girl, and that time we fought a dragon, but you guys’ve never starred in my sex dreams before. It’s new territory for me.” 

Anders drums his fingers again for a moment before sighing heavily. “So I should...Mine was in work.”

Blake looks around them to check the bathroom door's still closed before prompting, voice lowered, “In the office?” 

“In the break room. He pushed me up against the fridge and made out with me like he wanted to eat me alive and, god...I can’t believe I’m saying this but he was _hot_ , man. I was into it.” Anders' face falls and he lifts a hand to rub the notch between his brows as he adds desperately, "I wanted _Adam_. My god. What is wrong with me?"

“This _has_ to be more than a coincidence, dude! We should ask Adam if it happened to him too.”

Anders looks at him askance. “You don’t think…”

Blake shrugs. "Maybe."

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


They leap on Adam the second he opens the bathroom door, naked but for the towel around his waist.

“Whoa!” he exclaims. “What the hell, dudes! You scared me! I was just -”

“Whatever,” Anders interrupts him, ushering them down the corridor towards the living room. "Come with us."

“Are we leaving?” Adam asks, confused. “‘Cause I left my computer unlocked and there’s some pretty questionable websites open I should probably go shut down before -”

“We’re not leaving,” Blake assures him, guiding him to sit down on the couch opposite the tv. He and Anders sit side by side on the adjacent one, Adam's eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Then what’re we doing?” he asks, and he’s starting to look nervous now, hands resting on the towel where it stretches across his thighs. “Are you kicking me out? If it's because of the Reese's sitch, I already said I'm sorry like a thousand times -"

“We just wanna ask you about your dreams last night," Blake interrupts him, waving a hand to catch his attention.

Adam’s face goes suspiciously still. “My dreams?” he echoes tersely. 

“Yeah,” Anders says, leaning forwards, elbows on his knees. “This is gonna sound pretty weird, man, but we wanna know if you dreamed about one of us.”

“Why? Why d’you wanna know that?”

“Did you, or did you not? It's a simple question, Adam.”

Adam goes silent for a long moment, and when he eventually speaks again his voice is quiet and defensive. “Did you?”

“Yes,” Anders answers honestly. “And so did Blake.”

“Like a sex dream?”

Anders nods seriously. Adam’s eyes flicker towards Blake, who nods as well, then back to Anders. He folds his arms.

“Okay, so, I might've too. What's the big deal?”

“You did?” Blake says hopefully. “Guys this must really mean something! What did you dream, Adam?”

Adam looks at him, frowning. “I dreamed about giving you a blowj, actually.”

Blake feels like Adam's just swung a bat at his chest. “Me?”

“Yeah, Blake, you and your totally toned bod and your nice, kind smile and your fucking Usher muscles!” Adam’s voice rises as he goes along, the last couple of words loud enough that they all go silent and wide-eyed, as though someone might walk in on them at any second. Anders shoots Adam an annoyed look. 

“Can you be a little more discreet, Adam? This isn't something we wanna shout about from the rooftop, okay?”

“Right,” Adam says, rolling his eyes. “Sure, Ders. Of course. I'll try not to get over-excited about the fact that I dream about _guys_ now, apparently!”

“I can’t believe you dreamed that about me, man!” Blake says happily, beaming. “That’s so sweet of you!”

Adam looks up at him, interest starting to replace the defensiveness. “It was kind of nice, actually. We were at the beach. I had a hotdog. Well, for a moment, anyway. Oh wait,” he says, an intense focus in his eyes as he adds, "that probably symbolised your _dick_ , I realise that now!"

“Well, you wanna know about ours?”

Adam snaps out of it, eyes wide. "One of you guys better have dreamed about me or I _will_ throw myself off the roof…” 

“That would be me,” Anders admits quietly, holding up a hand. 

“ _Re_ ally?” Adam looks at him, fascinated. “Not gonna lie, that surprises me, dude.”

“You made out with me in the break room.”

“I made a move on you at _work_?”

“Yeah. You were confident and you just...took what you wanted, man. It was hot, actually.”

“Are you sure that was me, Ders? ‘Cause that doesn’t really sound like me.” 

“Oh, it was you.”

Adam shakes his head in wonder. “What a cool guy. Dream-me is a _cool guy_.”

“And I dreamed about Ders,” Blake admits, holding his hands out palm upwards. “He saved my life and gave me a UTPH.”

"Nice!" Adam crows. "Dude, that means you got a blowy _and_ a handy, you really lucked out last night!"

Blake grins and looks down at his hands, his heart tripping over a beat, a palpitation that makes him feel dizzy. "Does this mean something, guys? It's gotta mean something, right?"

"Are we gay?" Adam asks in confusion. 

"For me personally - and I'm just gonna put this right out there - I can't honestly say I've never thought about it," Anders admits, looking down at his hands where his fingers are twisted in his lap. "I don't really know whether I _want_ it, but I've thought about it."

"I've _never_ thought about boning you guys before," Adam expresses earnestly, "except maybe now and then, on the rare occasion, especially when I'm drunk and/or on molly...but yes, I'm absolutely thinking about it right now."

"Maybe we need to experiment, or something," Blake suggests with uncertainty. "Since we're being open and everything, can I tell you guys another secret?” 

Adam puts his hands on his thighs and gets to his feet. "Can I put on some pants first? I know you dudes were desperate to see this bod but I need to lock in some of this moisture!" He smacks a hand against his chest. "Listen to that slap!"

Anders sighs. "Okay. I'll go get the weed."

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


Turning his head against the back of the couch, Anders blinks at Blake through a cloud of smoke, eyes glazed. “So. Secret?” 

Blake exhales a lungful and brings his knees up to sit cross-legged. “Yeah, dude. Something I’ve never told anyone else.” 

“Is it dirty?" Adam asks eagerly.

Blake hesitates for a long moment before admitting, “I don’t want to get married.” 

Adam’s face falls and he goes back to taking a deep, disappointed drag on the joint between his fingers.

Anders frowns in confusion. “You don’t have to, Blake, that’s not a mandatory thing.”

“But I don’t wanna get a girlfriend either. I don’t want a girlfriend because I don’t wanna move out of our house, and I don’t want her to become more important than you guys, and I don’t want to have to be ‘normal’ and go to her parents’ house for dinner or be in bed by ten. I don’t want any of those things, Ders.” 

“Dude,” Anders lifts a heavy hand off the couch and lets it flop onto Blake’s thigh instead. “You don’t have to do that stuff. It’s your life, right?” 

“But even if I don’t do those things, you might, or Adam might, and either way it’s gonna end up with me alone.” 

“You honestly think there’s a woman out there who’d take Adam on?” 

“Isn’t there?”

“No way, man. You’re stuck with this dude for life.” 

“He’s right, I think,” Adam chokes out apologetically through a lungful of smoke. "I do _not_ have a good track record up to this point."

“But what about you, Ders? Of the three of us you're the one who usually comes closest with the ladies. One day one of them's gonna fall for you and you'll be gone, man.” 

Anders shrugs a shoulder as he says, "Then you'll probably have more fun without me, right? You guys think I'm uptight and boring, I've made my peace with that.”

Panic flits in Blake's chest. “That’s not true! Okay, sometimes you’re a little uptight, but you’re _not_ boring. Dude, you killed a dog with your bare hands! You got kidnapped and bonded with the guy! You leapt off a balcony, got a trophy stuck in you and barely noticed!”

“Oh, that was awesome!” Adam recalls, voice raw as he exhales a long stream of smoke up towards the ceiling. "And pretty disgusting, actually!"

“I still don’t get it, Blazer. You’d rather live with me and Adam than a hot girl?”

“Yeah, man. I think I would. Is that so weird?”

“Well, I thought you were straight, for one thing. You've always talked about your 'future wife'.”

“Oh I like girls, don’t get me wrong - they’ve got really nice soft parts and kind voices but I need more than that, dude. I need warmth and fun and to be able to just be my weird-ass self. Also, I kinda like the thought of being with someone who’s stronger than me, or taller than me, or with muscles and...hard parts, I guess.”

Anders regards him for a moment before remarking: “Oh. Well, okay. Not so straight after all.” 

"I guess this explains why you make friends with girls so easily," Adam realises, "like Jillian! They have gaydar, my man, they know you're safe!"

“Well I'm not gay exactly, I don't think...but you remember that party, where the gay dudes tricked us into thinking we had sex? I mean, I wasn’t that appalled by it, after a while,” Blake admits. “It seemed kinda logical.” 

"You mean because we spend so much time together,” Anders surmises. "Because we actually spend more time together than most actual couples do. Or throuples, or whatever..."

“Exactly,” Blake agrees. “And we love each other, right?” 

Anders dismisses that unsubtle little fishing hook with a wave of his hand. “That’s not the issue, here, the issue is that you were not at all disturbed by the thought of getting it on with me or Adam? Or both of us?”

Blake’s mouth twists in apology. “No. Not really. I always like it whenever we end up in each other’s beds after a heavy night, or like that time the heating broke, or when Adam’s room got that roach infestation. I like being close to you guys.” 

“We’re not just talking about spooning here, Blake.” 

“No, I know. I just...I don’t think it’d suck. I’ve seen you guys with hard on’s so many times, y’know? I’ve seen you naked. You remember that day, years ago, when we tried to jerk off in the 'Vo and we put all those sheets up so we wouldn't see each other, but we were, like, a foot away from each other, listening to each other? And now, now we don't even try to hide it! We watch porn and we jerk off around each other and, aside from all that, you know I consider you both to be totally handsome dudes, so, no, Ders! I’m not freaked out by the idea. I guess I’m just more metrosexual than you guys.”

“You’re into trains?” Adam asks, eyes narrowing. “That’s pretty _out there_ , man.” 

“Blake, you’re not metrosexual, you’re bisexual, okay?" Anders says. "If you can get with the idea of being with two dudes then you’re definitely at _least_ bisexual.” 

“Okay, well, that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

“No, man, of course not. I mean, this officially opens up another fifty per cent of the population for you.” 

“Hey, that’s right! I’ve broadened my horizons.”

“It’s us you want, though, right?” Adam asks. “Our totally buff bods? Maybe you’re not fully into dudes, you're just into me and Ders.”

“Very niche sexuality,” Anders points out quietly.

“It's possible, I guess,” Blake muses. “I don’t tend to go around drooling over guys. Maybe it _is_ just you two.” 

“What’re some of the things you like about me, for example?” Adam asks nonchalantly. 

“Well, you’re totally toned body, obviously.”

“Obviously!” 

“And you make me laugh, and you’re always so happy and enthusiastic!”

“Okay, I just meant the superficial stuff, really, so…”

“Oh...well, like I said, you’re a really good looking dude. Handsome with a thick head of hair and those big brown eyes. Mister dark and mysterious.” 

Adam doesn't dispute it, nose scrunched in self-satisfied agreement. "It's classic DeMamp beauty. We're famous for it, actually."

“What about me?” Anders asks cautiously, as though he thinks Blake might shout 'psych' at any second and laugh at him. 

Blake looks at him; really looks him up and down. “You? You’re tall, a gorgeous pair of eyes, also a bangin' bod. Oh, and you always smell so good. Like, really good.” 

“That’s true, actually,” Adam agrees earnestly. “That’s why we steal your clothes so often.” 

“Maybe it’s because I’m the only one of us who reliably showers every day, and does laundry,” Anders suggests, though he looks touched by the ease of Blake’s list.

“It’s a comfort thing,” Adam explains plainly. “We both do it, actually.” 

“Which is why I'm always trying to get the smell of weed and pop tarts out of everything,” Anders says with long-suffering resignation. 

“Right, right. I sleep in them sometimes, too.” 

“What? Oh, dude, tell me you don’t jerk off wearing my stuff...”

“Well, I’d _love_ to tell you that, Ders.” 

“Jesus. You do realise how that sounds, jerking off in something that smells like me?” 

“Your clothes smell so good, though!”

“Really good,” Blake agrees again contritely. 

“It’s a compliment, dude,” Adam points out with a wrinkle of his nose. “You’re the big, strong one. You’re the comfort blanket. You’re Anders the giant!”

“That’s...well, I guess that is pretty cool.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s hella cool, dude!”

“Wait, though, does that mean you’re kind of imagining me there while you’re jerking off?” 

“I imagine both you guys are there when I do anything sexual! You’re there cheering me on, telling me how awesome I am!”

“Okaaaay,” Blake says, elongating the word as he exchanges a look with Anders. “That’s weird, (“That’s really weird,” Anders agrees) but, um...I’m glad we’re there to help you out, if that’s what you need.”

“You forgot to compliment his legs, by the way,” Adam tells Blake dazedly, staring at a point up near the ceiling with a squint. “You’ve got great pins, Ders. What can I say, you’re a nicely proportioned dude."

"Uh, thanks Adam."

"I sometimes think it’d feel pretty amazing to be underneath you. Like, pinned down.”

Blake can't help the grin as Anders looks at him with a faintly disturbed expression.

Adam blinks over at them, seeing the exchange of disbelief. “Huh. I just said that out loud, evidently.”

Blake holds his hands out to say earnestly, "I guess, when it comes down to it, I’ve been striking out with girls left, right and centre these days and it’s been like, a really long time with just my hand for company, and I know - and I hate to say this - but I know it’s been a little while between bucks for you too, Ders, and you too, Adam.”

Anders frowns. “Real talk? It’s been a while.”

“Well I’m tired of waiting for sex to come to me, man! Why am I holding out for a so-called dream girl when I’ve got you guys here, being all buff around the house, all day, every day? I could be getting laid, like, all the time!

“So you think that because you’re having this major dry spell, we should be your pieces on the side? Your fuck toys?”

“Well...yeah,” Blake says, as though it’s obvious. “I mean, I'd be your fuck toy too!”

“What about STD's?" Anders points out. "Not wanting to play into my type-cast as the boring one, here, but I have literally _no_ idea where Adam's been..."

"I know, I know, but we all got tested as part of that weird workplace health initiative thing recently, right?”

“Right, right, thanks to Adam telling everyone he was HIV positive all the time, sure.”

“And, forgive me for being gauche, but I don’t think any of us have seen any action since then.”

Anders frowns again. Adam screws up his nose. They don't need to say anything.

“So, we're good to go. And I have an idea. Since it's my birthday tomorrow, I'm gonna ask Karl for a little something to help us out."

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


"Hey Karl."

Climbing into Karl's van takes Blake's anxiety down a couple of notches, as always. Something about the familiarity of the smells: Weed and salvia and smoke and resin. It's nearly eleven and the neighbourhood's silent, Karl's van blending into the shadows, rain hammering on the windshield.

"Hey, bro, how's it going?" he greets as Blake slips into the passenger-side quietly. "Some storm tonight, huh? You guys holding it together in there?"

"Actually, a little better than usual," Blake says, shaking his head to get rid of some of the raindrops in his hair and tilting his head back to breathe in some of the second-hand smoke hovering above their heads. "Strange things're afoot, dude."

Karl's eyes light up. "Things getting sexual?"

"Potentially. _Something's_ happening."

"I've never understood why you guys don't just bang each other constantly," Karl says frankly, shifting to sit in the corner between the seat and the window to see Blake better. "You got two handsome dudes in there, my man. I mean, three, counting you."

"I know, I know, but we've all had our eye on the ladies all this time, y'know? We're in our twenties, that's what you're supposed to do, right? Aim for the house, the car, the wife. It's what Hollywood movies have taught us to do all our lives."

"That's just what society wants you to do, man," Karl tells him firmly. "You think society wants me to live in a van and sell drugs? No. Do I do it anyway? Hell yes. What do you _really_ want?" 

And there's the crux of the matter. Because when Blake really stops to think about it, the only thing he truly knows he wants, from the bottom of his heart, is to have the other two in his life forever. He doesn't have a fantasy woman. The only faces he's able to conjure up from memory, with his eyes shut tightly and his hand wrapped around his dick, are Anders and Adam.

Karl looks at him askance. “You guys have lived together for...how many years? And taken how many drugs? And you’ve never even circle-jerked! I know because I asked Adam if I could get involved!”

“It's weird, Karl!”

“What’s weird is _not_ doing it! Trust me, guys at college do it, army guys, bands on tour; anywhere you get a group of guys they _will_ do it. Why would you do it with your own hand when you’ve got someone else’s?” Karl asks in bemusement. “A _bro’s_ hand.”

“You know, you should be a life coach, dude. Your wisdom knows no bounds."

"Thanks, Blazer. You've always understood me and my depths. Hey, look, I've got your weed in the back, you want anything else?"

"Yeah, actually, I need some molly."

Karl nods sagely. "Loosen 'em up. Good thinking, bro."

"I just...I think we could use the help. Adam's the most likely to just experience insane amounts of gay panic the moment someone touches his ding dong, and Ders is the most emotionally distant person I've ever met, so..."

"Ders is repressed as hell, dude. I've tried to seduce him myself a good few times now with little to no success."

"You have?" Blake asks, brow furrowing as he tries to recall a single time.

"He calls me 'dirty brown water trash' and it's like instant boner-town down there, I don't know why. It turns me on. But I always got strong bi-vibes off the guy."

"Well you were right about that. Good instincts, man. You get anything off Adam?"

"I get _nothing_ off that guy, but he's super impressionable, dude. I'm pretty sure if you told him to suck your dick he'd just do it, anyway. He'll follow your leads."

"I hope you're right, man. I'm scared we're gonna fuck things up."

"Just be good to each other, bro. Be kind."

"We're more 'point and laugh' kinda guys, but I'm gonna try my best, with a little help from my good pal molly. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house, amigo. It's your birthday."

Blake beams as Karl reaches over to pull him into a hug. "I love you, Karl."

"I hope you get what you want. If they hurt you, let me know and I'll break their kneecaps, okay?"

"You're a good friend, man."

"One last kiss before you run off into the sunset with those other guys?"

"Dude, the virus, remember? We're not even supposed to be meeting like this!"

"Fuck the virus. C'mere, Blazer."

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


“Fuck!” is the cry just past midnight, a distressed burst of frustration that’s followed by the crash of a door opening hard against a wall. “This is not happening right now!”

Seconds later another door opens, Anders sticking his head out into the hallway and then immediately covering his eyes. “Oh, dude! You’re butt-naked and fully torqued right now!”

“Sorry, Ders,” Blake apologises, heading for the kitchen with his hands waving in a determined ‘not right now!’ gesture, “this is an emergency. A masturbation emergency!”

“We’re all in the same boat, here, Blake...”

As if on cue, Adam’s door opens and he walks out in his boxers, hands on hips, glaring at Anders. “Is this your doing, Ders? Here I am, mid-crank, fully ready to bust, when my laptop fucking shuts down?!”

“My laptop,” Anders murmurs, a distracted correction, trying to keep his eyes above Adam's hips. 

“Sure, your laptop, whatever dude. Is this a revenge thing for me borrowing it again?”

“No, Adam, there's a power outage. It’s the storm. Haven't you heard the thunder?”

“No, Ders, of course not! I had headphones in so I could listen to the babes go 'unnhh!', 'ohh!', 'mmmmm!'. Obviously.” Rolling his eyes, the fight leaves Adam as quickly as it came, head cocking to one side as he listens, eyes widening as the roof creaks under the force of the wind. “That makes more sense, though, actually.”

“Aside from that, if you charged it up when you’re not using it you’d still have some battery power and you’d still be jerking off right now.”

“You have no idea how electronics work, do you Ders? They don’t work without power, dude! You're supposed to be the nerd here!”

Anders just ignores him this time, shaking his head as he looks down the corridor, still strategically hiding the lower half of his body behind his bedroom door. “What’s the damage, Blazer?”

“I've checked the fusebox, nothing's out of place,” Blake says with a shrug as he makes his way back. “I guess we got knocked off the grid, huh?”

“Yeah, it looks that way."

“What is that?” Adam asks, squinting in the darkness. “Is that tinfoil?”

Blake looks down at the sheet wrapped around his hips and grins. “No, dude, it’s that recovery blanket the paramedics gave you the other day when you hit your head in the pool, remember? It’s pretty stylish, actually.”

“It looks good on you, man. Silver suits you. You should keep it, actually.”

“Really? Thanks!” Blake says, touched. “So I guess we’re all in the same ‘sticky’ situation here, right? We were all mid-jerk, and now the power’s out we’re gonna struggle to pop thanks to our frankly limited imaginations.”

Adam and Anders look disgruntled by that but nod amidst mumbled, half-hearted excuses.

“I’ve got some really old mags somewhere but my eyesight’s not really that great in the dark, especially after the knock to the old noggin the other day, so…” Adam shrugs. “No internet, no tv...what else is there?”

"Phones?" Anders suggests, then his face falls. "No, no wi-fi."

Blake looks between them, considering. “I know we talked about this and agreed that tomorrow was the day for experimenting, but I was talking to Karl earlier and he put an idea in my head. A circle-jerk kind of idea."

"You seriously think we should listen to one of _Karl's_ suggestions?" Anders asks, frowning.

"He knows a lot more about male bonding than you, Ders, lemme tell ya."

Adam snorts. "Male _donging_ more like, am I right?"

He reaches out to get a low-five off Anders.

Blake shrugs a shoulder a little self-consciously. “It’s either we get down to this now or we all go back to our beds with blue balls, right?”

“The power might come back on at _any_ second!”

“Or it might not,” Adam points out. “I don’t know, Ders, I’m thinking Blake might have an answer to all our problems, here.”

“C’mon, Ders,” Blake says with soft encouragement. “It’s dark, you can close your eyes, you know I’ve got super-soft hands like a girl.”

“That’s true," Anders concedes. "You really do.”

“How exactly _do_ you get them so soft? I’ve always wondered,” Adam asks in curiosity, putting his hands on his hips.

“Just do as little as possible, dude,” Blake advises, eyes inexorably drawn down to Adam’s boner for a second before darting back up. “The only physical labour these hands do is jerking, you know what I’m saying?”

“I feel you, but you know I’m a man’s kinda man, so my hands’re rough and callused. Strong.”

“You do have some sweet calluses. Here, Ders, I have something that’ll help." He disappears back into his room and re-emerges a few seconds later with a baggy, pulling open the seal and reaching in. He drops a pill into Anders’ hand, then one into Adam’s.

“It's just straight up molly, man. Nothing crazy. It’ll just help us be more chill about this, make everything feel twice as good.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. It’s gonna feel like you’re spunking your brain out of your dick-hole, dude.”

“Ewww!” Adam laughs. "That sounds _scary_ , actually. That can't really happen, right?"

“Fine, okay, whatever,” Anders sighs, only a moment’s hesitation before he tosses it into his mouth and swallows it dry, making Blake’s eyes widen in surprise.

“You know what, I was kind of expecting you to throw that over your shoulder or something, I was gonna go and pick it up later,” he says, impressed, reaching out to pat Anders’ shoulder. “You won’t regret it, Ders!”

“I’m bound to regret something from tonight,” Anders says in resignation, heading for the living room, “may as well go whole hog, right?”

“No regrets!” Adam enthuses, punching the air and then following Anders’ lead, eyes widening as he immediately chokes on his pill.

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


“God, this feels good,” Adam says dreamily, reaching for another grape mid-sit-up. “You guys feel good? I feel so good right now!"

Sprawled on the couch, Blake turns his head to look at him and smiles. "You're looking good, dude. How many's that now?"

"I lost count, actually! I thought tonight was gonna be weird but I feel great! I don’t even feel like you guys secretly hate me or are gonna reject me or _anything_!”

“We never hate you, Adam. You're a sweetheart. We love you, right Ders?”

“Right,” Anders agrees, busily rearranging their dvd collection into alphabetical order with an intense kind of efficiency. “Love you, Adam.”

“That means a lot, Ders, thank you. I love you too, you big, handsome bastard. Dude, I just ate a grape, I think, and it literally exploded in my mouth. A grape! I wish they always tasted like that, maybe I'd be able to stop eating so many poptarts,” Adam enthuses as he goes back to his sit-ups, sweat starting to dampen the t-shirt he'd pulled on hastily.

They've lit the room with candles and some of the solar powered coloured light from the garden, hastily retrieved by Anders in a quick dash through the rain, and everything's either flickering with soft reds and blues and greens or cast in long, deep shadows. The rain's still loud against the windows, the curtains drawn to cocoon them in their warm, glowing room.

“We should do this more often,” Anders says, as he looks around for something else to do, fingers drumming on the shelf. He eyes Adam's collection of PS4 games in consideration. "We're getting a lot done here, guys. We should take this at work."

“I mean, I do, a lot," Blake points out, "but you guys totally should as well. Karl’s stuff is amazing.”

“Karl…” Adam echoes, stopping again mid sit-up. “Wait, are we still…? I totally forgot about all that stuff!”

“Well, the power’s still out, right?”

Anders sits down on the other couch, wiping an arm across his forehead, his hair starting to curl with the humidity. "I'm not hard anymore, guys."

“Me neither,” Adam says, “although I think it’s still kinda lurking there, y’know? It’s not fully soft.”

“It won’t take much,” Blake assures them, watching as Anders strips his t-shirt off and flings it over the tv, grabbing his beer off the table before flopping down onto his back, feet propped up on the armrest. “I don’t know about you guys, but once I’m in the mood, I’m in the mood.”

“That's true, actually,” Adam agrees, going back to his sit-ups. “It takes a _lot_ to vanquish this boner. My god, I’m so full of energy right now! It’s one in the morning or something and I’ve already done like a thousand sit-ups! I could get fully buff on this stuff!”

“You’re looking good, man! It’s working for you.” 

And he's not lying - Adam really does look good, skin golden and muscles toned, dark eyes lit up with candlelight. Even the fact that he's sweating is hot to Blake, suddenly, the urge to go over there and wipe it away with the back of his hand, delve his fingers into Adam's dark, damp hair and taste the salt of it where his throat meets his jaw. He knows it's the molly talking, but he kind of wants to bury himself in Adam and never let go.

“I’m gonna have to get more food if I’m gonna keep this up," Adam says, oblivious, hopping up onto his feet. "I'll get some more brewskis for my boys while I'm there! Gotta keep my guys hydrated, but not too hydrated since Blake you keep telling me that’s a really bad thing with molly, so…”

Blake watches him go with a fond smile before turning back to look at the other couch. He isn’t sure whether it’s the molly he’s taken or the molly _Anders_ has taken, but it's like he's giving off this light, skin glowing, eyes bright. He’s only wearing his boxers now and he’s staring at the ceiling with the same kind of unblinking focus that Blake has fixed on him. Every time he drinks it’s like a porno, the swallowing and the way his throat moves and the way he licks his lips...Jesus. Blake is so lost. His heterosexuality has _gone_ , out the window and into the storm.

Putting his own beer down, he crawls down from the couch to the floor, making his way on hands and knees around the coffee table until he can kneel in front of the other one. Anders’ eyes focus on him slowly, the bright intensity of them making Blake’s heart thrum, a thrill.

“Hey, man,” he says, gaze wandering of its own accord to Anders’ mouth.

“Hey, Blazer,” Anders greets, none of his usual up-tight-ness about personal space apparent, just a relaxed, happy openness.

“You're still sure about this? I don't wanna screw things up between us, man.”

Anders smiles slowly, and the effect alongside his heavy gaze is fucking electrifying. “Dude, we've been through a _lot_ together, and it hasn't screwed us up yet. We can do this.”

“I really want your tongue in my mouth right now,” Blake admits helplessly. "I know, I know, I'm a hopeless romantic. I just feel like kissing should come before handjobs, you know?”

He reaches out and touches the side of Anders’ throat, feeling the fast, heavy swell of his pulse, feeling him swallow. He's never touched another guy like this, with gentle trepidation - not even Karl - and it's _Ders_. Ders, with his head full of parent-induced insecurities and his painful quest for success and acknowledgement. Ders, who's older and more responsible and who's saved Adam's life at least seven times and Blake's at least twice; who fell from grace from athletic swim-team jock to dude-husband and, well, it's something Blake tries not to think about too often, just who got the best deal out of that situation. He wonders sometimes whether, if given the option to turn back time, Ders would choose his old life over them. The thought of it's like a black cloud over his buzz, and he blows it away with thoughts of pre-birthday pancakes. 

“We can make out,” Anders offers quietly, breaking him out of his thoughts. He reaches out, tucking Blake's hair behind his ear. "Dude, your eyes are really, really blue tonight..."

Blake hesitates. “You're one hundred percent sure about this? I don’t wanna take advantage of you while you’re on drugs that you’re not usually on.”

“Since when have we ever given a fuck about consequences, Blazer?”

“Well, I mean, _you_ have, always. That’s why I’m a little hesitant…”

"It's molly, Blake, not rohypnol, okay? I'm here with you. You want me to make the first move?"

Blake trails his fingers lightly down to the hollow between Anders' collar bones, watching their progress with fascination. He nods.

“You’re a good friend, man,” Anders says softly, moving to sit up so that Blake’s kneeling between his legs, sitting forwards until they're almost at eye level. “You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, you know that? You’re amazing.”

Blake smiles, happiness bursting in his chest, closing his eyes when one of Anders’ big hands reaches to touch his face. He knows, at heart, that the words coming out of Anders' mouth are somewhat chemically-induced, far more intimate and uninhibited than anything he'd ever say sober, but at the same time he knows those feelings are always in Ders somewhere, buried deep - he just needs a helping hand to get them out. “You’re amazing too, Ders. You and Adam are the best friends I’ve ever had, ever. I don't even know what I'd do without you anymore.”

"Good thing we're here to stay then, huh?"

"Yeah," Blake breathes, distracted by what's about to happen, and then it _is_ happening, and Ders is _kissing_ him.

And it turns out that drunken, molly-fied kisses with Anders are slow and deep and lazy, hot and hungry, and Blake instantly has no idea why they’ve never done this before. Anders' hand is heavy and warm on his hip and Blake never, ever wants to move, nerves lighting up like a pinball machine every time Anders' thumb strokes across his side. He knows he becomes overly-tactile and overly-reckless when he’s high, but he can’t quite bring himself to care, not when he’s warm and happy and the fingers of his left hand are settled perfectly into the grooves between Anders' ribs. It’s fascinating, the way Anders' skin burns his hand, and how he can feel every quick thump of his heart, every rise and fall of his every breath.

Anders’ fingers keep stroking through his hair, twirling curls around before letting them go, tugging just lightly in a way that makes him groan happily. 

Blake's breathing hard when they pull apart, tilting his head into the touch. “You went straight for my kink,” he says. "Good job, dude."

“I just like the feel as it goes through my fingers.” 

“I’ve always said my hair’s a free for all for you guys only. Please, touch away.”

They gaze at each other, intrepid explorers in a new universe. Blake leans in for another kiss, because he _can_ , pausing when he gets just inches apart so he can slow down and experience once again the absolute mind-blowing sensation of their lips touching. Suddenly, _finally_ , he's been given carte blanche to kiss someone as much as he wants and his heart's going a mile a minute as his brain provides him with the idea to get his knees up on the couch, straddle Anders’ thighs and...

“I’m getting hard again!” Adam announces triumphantly, reappearing suddenly, dropping down next to Blake. Anders' eyes widen just a little, having both of them on their knees down there in front of him.

"This is _weird_ , and I like it!" Adam says happily, then to Blake: "Can you just kiss me already, Blazer?"

So Blake does, putting a hand around the back of Adam's neck and pulling him close enough to press their lips together, a little more forcibly than he had with Ders. It's always been the best way to treat Adam, not to give him time to think, just show him what to do and let him run with it. And he does, he goes with it, head tilting and tongue meeting Blake's without hesitation, a quick and dirty kiss, heavy with promise.

Blake pulls away first, grinning as he exclaims: "Cinnamon Crunch!"

"Guilty! I thought it was weed that gives you munchies, but this molly is making me hungry, dude!" Adam beams and curls a hand over one of Anders' knees, looking up at him expectantly. Anders cocks his head, the brightness in his eyes a little darker now.

He reaches out and slides his fingers into Adam's hair. "You guys look good together," he says, voice low.

"We're all a lot better at kissing than I would've guessed," Blake realises earnestly, as he gets up off his aching knees to sit up on the couch next to Anders, watching with unblinking interest as his fingers tighten a little in Adam's hair and Adam's eyes drift shut in enjoyment. Anders tugs him closer, a gentle manhandling, Adam practically _purring_ as he lets Anders bring him into a slow, melting kiss.

God, it's really something. Blake feels like someone's shoved him in the solar plexus, watching his two best friends in the whole world make out like they were made to do it, Adam's hands clutching Anders' knees, Anders' fingers cradling the back of Adam's skull like he's delicate; protective and possessive.

Adam's eyes stay closed for a long moment after they break apart, his breathing a little shaky. When he opens them, he lifts dark eyes to meet Anders’ and Blake's with a zen kind of calm on his face that’s rarely there, the naked vulnerability of it making Blake’s chest hurt.

He reaches out and winds his fingers into Adam's hair on the other side to Anders, both of them holding his head like they're supporting him; that head that's been been cracked open more times than Blake can count, a map of bumps and scars.

"I think we're all learning, tonight," he reassures quietly, and then Anders leans in and kisses him just under his left ear, brushing his hair back out of the way, a little graze of teeth and a swipe of his tongue that has Blake's dick heading back into torque-town in seconds. "Fuck!" he exclaims, tilting his head to the other side. "Ho-ly fuck, Ders, that's good, that's good, that's so good..." Anders starts sucking at the base of his throat and oh, god, his first hickey in forever, and he lets go of Adam to delve his hand into Anders' hair instead, holding him there in encouragement.

"Fuuuck," Adam intones, "that looks so good! I'm gonna bite the shit out of you, Blazer, I hope you're ready for that..."

"I'm ready!" Blake gasps, and he reaches down to palm himself through his boxers. "I'm ready, guys, let's do this!"

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


They don't make it to a circle-jerk, too much decision-making required as to who gets whose hand, and instead they just head for Anders' room with three candles, set them in the least precarious spots they can find and fall onto his bed, a pile of limbs and elbows and knees that naturally sorts itself into some semblance of order, Blake sitting up against the headboard while he watches Adam crawl on top of Anders and hump him, a pretty good impression of the frot he's seen on the rare occasion he's slipped - both on purpose and by accident - into the gay section of xhamster. Anders lifts his hips up enough to shimmy out of his boxers and slips long fingers under the waistband of Adam's, sliding them down far enough to leave them skin on skin, dick to dick, Adam burying his face against Anders' throat as he thrusts a wet line of precome against Anders' belly.

"Fuck," Blake says quietly, awed; he's never seen anything like this, never thought he would - it's so hot, and so intimate, and it's actually _not_ like that frot stuff at all, actually, because this isn't two porn stars who've never met and have as much chemistry as a pair of eggplants, this is _Adam_ , and _Ders_ , and all the quirks and vulnerabilities and things about them that make Blake love them, so much. And god, he loves to watch. He's said it before and he'll carry on saying it to anyone who gives a crap - he _loves_ to _watch_. If he was taking part right now he'd be too busy worrying about getting his hair in his mouth or whether he was jabbing someone with his pointy elbows to notice the way the muscles in Adam's back shift every time he thrusts, or just how much he wants to bury his little vampire teeth in Anders' throat. Adam's still wearing his t-shirt and Anders' hands are slowly spreading up the curve of his spine, pushing it up towards his shoulder blades, and the more skin he uncovers the more Adam melts against him, one of his hands curling around Anders' right thigh to pull it up, cradling his hips against Anders' even tighter, bringing them even closer.

"Blake," Anders searches, his voice a little wrecked as he turns his head against the pillow to find him, and Blake leans down and kisses him hard, almost bruising in his need to show how involved he is, to show how much he's _feeling_ right now just looking at them. Anders opens right up to him, not controlling, not dominant, just pliant and ready for it, their mouths slanting together as Blake cups one side of his' face gently.

"Ders," Adam breathes heavily, watching them, his hand spread wide on Anders' breastbone. "Ders, I know you pretend to be a dry guy, but lube, dude?"

Anders waves a hand blindly behind him and Adam reaches across to the bedside table, rummaging through the top drawer. "Oh, KY, _nice_. Should've known you'd go for the classics." He pops the top with a satisfying click of plastic that makes Blake break the kiss, waving a hand in Adam's direction.

"Dude, let me," he says eagerly, reaching out to take it from him. "I'm ready to get my hands on the goods."

"Please do," Adam condones, kneeling between Anders' thighs and looking down with his head cocked and a perplexed smile on his face. "Why am I not freaking out about your hard-on right now, dude? It's _right there_. Not a view I ever expected to see, honestly, but I'm weirdly okay with it!"

"All those years of sympathy boners prepared us for the naked truth?" Anders suggests, watching intently as Blake rubs lube between his palms to warm it. "I just can't believe that last night I was dreaming about you making out with me and now we're doing _this_. It's insane."

"I mean, sure, the molly's helped, and the power outage, but I think we've been building up to this for a long time, guys," Blake confides frankly. "All the times we've struck out with girls, all the nights we've spent on the roof together, or watched porn together, instead of going out to the club?"

"All the times you guys've sat at my bedside in hospital, and the times we've shared food and booze and beds, even!"

"All the times we've put each other and our friendship before a chance to change our future," Anders agrees quietly, the last word a stutter of breath as Blake wraps a slick hand around him, and another around Adam simultaneously.

Adam moans pornographically, eyes closing as he pushes into Blake's grip. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," he intones, "this is the first hand on my dick that's not mine in, like, _years_ probably..."

"I wanna see you guys come all over each other," Blake says emphatically, the obscenely wet sound of his dual jerk-off loud in the silence of the blackout. "I wanna see you rut against each other like the wild animals I know you are. My alpha dogs!" 

"We can do that, I think," Adam says, voice raw, leaning back down over Anders and nudging him into another kiss, his hips jerking of their own accord when he feels the wet heat between their bodies. Blake pulls his hands away and immediately shoves one into his own boxers, using what's left of the lube on his fingers to slick himself up. He lifts his hips and tugs them off, throwing them to the floor, and that's it, they're _all_ naked now and his heart's going a mile a minute because there's no turning back now, they're having sex, they're having sex, they're -

"Adam," Anders says, "I'm just gonna..." and in one pretty slick move he's hooked a leg over one of Adam's and an arm around his back and turned them over, Adam's eyes widening as his back hits the bed with a thump.

"Whoa!" he crows. "That was cool, dude! You're a big guy, I forget that sometimes!"

"Earlier you said something about being underneath me, so I thought..."

"Excellent listening skills, Ders," Adam says appreciatively, reaching up and curling a hand around the back of Anders' neck. "I do want this, extremely badly, so please get down here and pretend like you're fucking me into the mattress, okay?"

Anders doesn't need telling twice, and what was previously an experimental kind of meeting of bodies is now Anders taking both of their dicks in one big hand as he leans over Adam, propped on one elbow, their hips driving together in a sinuous thrust of muscle and sweat-damp skin that makes heat prickle across Blake's forehead.

"Blake?" Anders says, his voice low and rough.

"Yeah, Ders?"

"I'm gonna suck you off after this," he says, and Blake has to squeeze tightly suddenly as the urge to blow his load almost overwhelms him. "Just as soon as I come, okay?"

"Okay," Blake agrees dazedly, staring down, not sure what to start rejoicing about first - that he managed to stifle that almost-premature e-jac or the promise of Anders' mouth. On his _dick_. "God, okay...Really? Are you sure?"

Anders hums something affirmative and distracted, as Adam coils a leg over one of his, staring up at him with unabashed pleasure. "It's your _birthday_."

Blake looks over at the alarm clock on the bedside table in surprise. "My god, you're right, I totally forgot in the heat of the moment! Guys, this went from being potentially the worst twenty-fifth birthday ever to the best ever!"

"Pretty sure _mine_ was the worst ever," Anders mutters against Adam's shoulder, just as Adam declares:

"And I, also, am going to give you a birthday blowj!" his eyes widening as his brain catches up just a millisecond after the words come out. "Because that is, apparently, what dudes do for each other now! I'm pretty sure me and Ders can double-team like pro's."

"You guys realise we're gonna be sexperts by the end of this lockdown, right?" Anders says, doing something with his wrist that makes Adam's entire body squirm. "We have all the time in the world right now."

"You're right," Blake realises, threading his fingers into Adam's hair and tugging gently, smiling when he goes a little cross-eyed at the overload of sensation. "I've never been an expert at anything in my entire life!"

"Except how to be one of the coolest dudes _ever_ ," Adam points out vehemently, his voice getting breathless now. "Ders, I'm gonna bust, dude, I'm gonna..."

"Yeah," is all Anders says, an exhalation against Adam's shoulder.

"I can't believe I want another dude's spunk on my dick but I do, apparently, the thought of it's really working for me right n-"

Adam's words dissolve into an unintelligible garble of sounds as he comes, one hand holding the back of Anders' neck and the other grabbing his ass hard enough to bruise, his hips chasing every last sensation as Anders thrusts against him just a few more times and comes as well, face buried in Adam's throat, the muscles in his arms straining to hold himself up, Adam's belly a _mess_ between them.

Adam hooks a leg over both of Anders' to encourage him to drop and gets his wish, fingers digging into Anders' spine as he collapses down, trapping all of that come between them, both of them panting for breath, a gorgeous heap of legs and hips and ribs, sweat-damp skin sticking wherever they touch.

Blake's not really prepared for the sensory overload of sights and sounds and he knows instantly that he's not gonna be able to hold out for the tag-team blowjob, too close to the edge, too turned on, and thinking about Adam and Ders on their knees in front of him does _not_ help. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," he recites, tipping his head back to look up at the shelf of trophies over Anders' bed, biting his lip hard. When he looks back down, Anders has turned his head against Adam's shoulder and is watching him with hazy green eyes, penetrating and understanding, and he reaches an arm out and bumps Blake's hand out of the way, replacing it with his own, and he barely has his fingers around Blake's dick before he's coming too, like it's been wrenched out of him, the sheer sight of that familiar hand - the one that's already slick with Anders and Adam's own come - enough to send him hurtling over the edge.

  
  
  


+++++++++++++

  
  
  


Turns out he'd been right earier: It _was_ just like spunking his brain out of his dick-hole. Lying on his back and staring up at the underside of Anders' trophy shelf, it takes him a long, long few minutes to remember how to think; to _speak_. He senses rather than sees Anders crawling off Adam and sprawling on the other side of the bed, Adam glowing and happy in the middle, his hands tucked behind his head, apparently still buzzing with energy in a way Blake can't even fathom.

"Happy Birthday, Blazer," he says beatifically, and then, just to spoil it: "Dude, I am _covered_ in come right now."

"Thanks, Adam," Blake says happily. "You really are."

"We got you gifts," Anders says, words muffled against the pillow. "We were kinda restricted to online shopping and it was pretty expensive so we had to club together, but -"

"Guys, you just gave me the best birthday present ever! I don't need anything else."

"Oh, you're gonna want these," Adam promises him, and he sits up, leaning back on his hands for a moment as he beams down at Blake. "Ders basically had to hide them from me all week."

He shifts down the bed and off, disappearing out of the door in a blur of hyperactivity as Blake shakes his head in wonder. He turns his head as Anders turns over onto his back, flopping an arm over his eyes. "You okay over there, Ders?"

Anders sighs, a heaving breath that makes his shoulders rise and fall. "I was just thinking about how my dad's gonna disown me when he finds out."

"So we keep it a secret, right?"

"Blake, I'm twenty-eight! You're only twenty-five and I'm heading for thirty and my life is not going the way I imagined, _at all_."

"Whoa, whoa," Blake soothes, swiping his hair away from his face. "So you're twenty-eight! Big deal! You're _hot_ , Ders. Look at you over there with your perfect nordic skin and not one but _two_ boyfriends."

"I just...I always thought I’d end up with a beautiful girl and a big house, a driveway full of cars and a bank account full of money, you know? But there’s no beautiful girl and only fifty dollars in my bank account and an old ‘vo on the driveway. And instead of a girl, apparently I love not one guy, but _two guys_! And one of them's a borderline psychopath!"

Blake feels the smile rise up in his chest before it even hits his face, a slow creeping warmth that makes him want to point his toes and stretch his fingers out wide. "Dude, you never talk about love. This is character development, right here!"

"Wait, we're declaring love already?" Adam asks as he returns, dropping a warm, wet cloth onto Anders' chest. "You guys just waited 'til I was out of the room?"

Anders grimaces at the cloth and picks it up between thumb and forefinger, inspecting it warily. "Make the most of it while the molly's still doing its thing, you guys know it doesn't come naturally to me."

"It's a safe space, Ders. We're not gonna use anything you say against you, right Adam?"

Adam lets out a dubious 'hmmm' as he crawls back over Anders to get to the middle of the bed, flopping onto his front with a contented groan and slapping something hard and flat wrapped in pages of an old 'Natural Beauties' magazine onto Blake's stomach. "No, Ders, your secrets and kinks are safe with us," he grouses, then adds hopefully, "Fuck, I hope you've got kinks, though. I have a lot myself, honestly."

Blake pushes himself to sit up against the headboard and looks from the gift in his hands and then down at them fondly, taking in the way Adam's automatically sought out physical contact, his right hand lying lightly on Anders' side. Adam, who loves too easily, and Anders not easily enough, the former hurtling headlong into getting his heart broken at every opportunity and the latter never even giving himself the chance.

"One of these was a joke gift, actually," Adam says, rolling onto his side so he can watch Blake, Anders flinging an arm over him to stop his trajectory. "We got you a real one and a joke one, and as it turns out, you might actually prefer the gag one now."

"Oh my god!" Blake says as he tears away the paper, barely sparing a glance at the busty ladies as he does so. "A vhs copy of 'The Raw-wank Redemption'! Where did you find this!?"

"You know it?" Anders asks, amused.

"Well, I've heard of it, shall we say. I mean, I've seen mentions of it in comments on pornhub."

"You go on the gay half of pornhub?" Adam asks in surprise.

"I may have occasionally ended up there, y'know. Accidentally."

"It's supposed to be a masterpiece," Anders remarks. "Much like the original."

"Oh, and 'Queef Encounter'!" Blake exclaims as he uncovers the other vhs. "My god, you guys really dug through the archives, huh?" 

"Only the best vintage pornogs for you, bro," Adam says, looking down at where Anders' big hand sits on his hip, distracted already. "We should get some ideas from those tomorrow, right?"

"For sure. Hey, you think we'll dream about each other again tonight, or have we broken the spell?"

"You guys're staying here, right?" Anders asks, craning his neck to grab his phone. "It's...oh, hey, it's our usual bedtime, actually."

"Blake, you're gonna have to be the big spoon, here," Adam says matter-of-factly. "Otherwise I might choke on your hair in the night."

"Nice Ghostbusters II reference, dude."

"Really, though. I mean it."

"Adam, you've always been the tasty piece of meat in our sandwich," Blake says earnestly, turning onto his side and pulling Adam closer, watching as Anders gets up and blows the candles out one by one, the dim light of his room fading to black.

"I'm a meat _feast_ ," Adam agrees, finally sounding as though exhaustion is catching up on him. "A meaty beast."

The bed creaks just a little as Anders gets back in, the mattress dipping, their sandwich complete.

Blake falls asleep to the sound of soft, even breathing and the patter of rain on the window, Adam's heart beating against his hand, Anders' fingers brushing his.

Best birthday ever.


End file.
